


Nimble Heels, Light Toes

by Daegaer



Series: A Tree of Life [3]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Babylon, Demons, Gen, Mesopotamia, Sumer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-22
Updated: 2007-01-22
Packaged: 2020-06-10 12:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19504168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale on the road north up the Euphrates to Babylon.





	Nimble Heels, Light Toes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a time-stamp meme. _Hope Deferred_ , one week on.

" _How_ many miles to Babylon?" Crowley gasped in horror.

"Um. A lot. I'm not sure of the actual distances involved on foot." The angel had the grace to look embarrassed. "I, er, flew down here."

"Cheater," Crowley muttered. "Can't we commandeer a couple of donkeys, or something?" He idly kicked stones out of his way, frowning. The donkeys round this part of the world seemed rather diminutive, and he was rather tall. Maybe he'd look stupid sitting on one. He might have to ride side-saddle. "On second thoughts, the exercise will do us good," he said.

They trudged along in silence for a few more miles, before Aziraphale sighed and sat down on a far-too conveniently-placed boundary stone near the road side. "Blisters," he explained, taking off his sandals and staring in fascination at his feet.

"Heal 'em," Crowley said. "It'll be allowable, especially if we're to get anywhere this millennium."

Aziraphale's feet suddenly looked a lot better, but the angel didn't get up. "I have an idea," he said. He pointed back down the way they'd come. Something was getting closer, the cloud of dust it had raised showing its position. "Let's wait for that cart and ask for a lift. In the meantime –" He pulled out a waterskin. "Some date wine?" he asked.

"Oh, good," Crowley said in relief, "I thought you were going for the healthy option for a moment there."

They passed the skin back and forth between them till the cart was almost upon them. Crowley hoped there was room for them in amidst the root vegetables. "Are you sure he'll give us a lift?" he muttered.

"Yes – I have a new technique," Aziraphale whispered back. He stuck out his thumb. "I call it 'hitchhiking.'"

Crowley nodded appreciatively as the cart stopped right beside them. Hitchhiking. Angels _were_ an inventive lot. He'd have to remember to give it a go himself, when the humans had developed carts that went a bit faster.

**Author's Note:**

> The title and Crowley's first line refer to a traditional chant used in singing and skipping games.
> 
> How many miles to Babylon?  
> Three score miles and ten.  
> Can I get there by candle-light?  
> Yes, and back again.  
> If your heels are nimble and your toes are light,  
> You may get there by candle-light. 


End file.
